


Someone Else's Story

by suyari



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Discussion of Abortion, Kid Fic, M/M, Single Parents, Widowed, chaleigh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:45:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck Hansen never thought he’d know all the words to anything, let alone be able to re-enact entire swaths of sparkly fairy and princess films. Then again, Chuck Hansen had never given very much thought to anything really. Which was how he found himself a father before he was even properly into his twenties.</p><p>or </p><p>The one in which Chuck and Raleigh are single dads who meet because of their kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chuck

Chuck Hansen never thought he’d know all the words to anything, let alone be able to re-enact entire swaths of sparkly fairy and princess films. Then again, Chuck Hansen had never given very much thought to anything really. Which was how he found himself a father before he was even properly into his twenties. When he’d first looked down at the little bundle of red hair and scrunched up face, he hadn’t realized he was royally fucked for ever being attractive to another human being again. 

It started in little things. Commenting about nappies in the middle of a footie match. Humming obnoxiously catchy toddler tunes while working out in the gym. Ending up with half a tumbler of glitter stuck to his skin because the assholes in charge of children’s clothing thought everything looked better in frustratingly tiny glinting bits that NEVER properly washed out and kids _agreed_ with them. 

Inane factoids that made him stand apart from other blokes in his age range. Like what a cutie mark was, and how many types of fairies there were, and which princess went with which prince - despite his own personal views on the subject of whom fit best with whom. The latter argument only adding to the exceptionally long and ever growing list of reasons why he’d never get laid again. 

Despite all that, Chuck _loved_ being a dad. There was something about looking down into a similarly peaches and cream complexion with great sprays of freckles and two eyes that never seemed the same color that just made him feel warm and _accomplished_. If nothing else, Chuck had the complete adoration of his daughter, whose love for him seemed to crash over him in waves of excitement and exhaustion. Most days, that was more than enough. It was only rarely, after she’d fallen asleep, all tucked in and splayed out that he found himself alone with himself in the quiet of the house. Sometimes he’d just stand in her doorway until the feeling went away or she woke up whining and gave him a distraction in resettling her. Sometimes he’d wander around the house, touching things as he tidied and lingering for too long on what ifs. On rare occasions, when the ache of it was a raw, open gnaw in his gut, he’d check in on her to make sure she was sleeping soundly, then go to his room, lock and lightly barricade the door and work himself into a frenzy of imagination that left him panting and spent but never sated. He’d clean up and feel _worse_ and go to bed only to toss and turn and be otherwise fretful and uncomfortable until he had to get up and start her day. 

It wasn’t the worst life, but he figured it could look up a bit maybe. They needed a change, he thought. Long hours of debate with himself and his parents didn’t yield any results, and left him more depressed than he’d felt to date. Which was why when the school called him about Jo being in a fight, he raced on over with more fury than fear. 

She was sitting in a chair against the far wall outside the headmaster’s office, an icepack to her face. When she looked up and smiled at him, she was missing two - thankfully baby - teeth, one pigtail lay against her neck and shoulder in tangles and her cheek was a deep purple color. Beside her, a blond boy had his head back against the curve of the chair, wads of cotton stuffed up his nose, stained red nearly to the twisted ends. His knees were skinned, as were the palms of his hands and he was missing a canvas shoe, the other’s laces hanging limp and muddy from his foot. 

“Jo!” he cried, crossing the room. 

His daughter stood up on her chair and held both arms up. He scooped her up and brought her close to him, wanting to touch her cheek to assess the damage, but not wanting to hurt her any more by adding any pain to that which she was already enduring. 

“You got into a fight?”

She folded her hands together behind his neck, fingers locking, and looked him in the eyes. “They were picking on Rory,” she told him without hesitation. “Jus ‘cause he was playing with us girls.”

Chuck’s eyes slid to the boy beside her whose eyes at some point had opened - probably when he’d gotten close - and shone the most brilliant blue Chuck had ever seen. With his olive skin and smooth baby curves, Chuck could tell the kid probably got picked on a lot. He was...well, he was _pretty_ \- probably just like his mom, poor kid. And little boys, well...little boys took one look at a kid like that and smelled blood in the water. It was almost as if they knew evolution had given them the short end of the crap shoot and kids like Rory - with their million dollar looks, and likely similarly exquisite charm - would be the leaders of tomorrow by default. Chuck couldn’t blame them - he’d been there - even if it _was_ wrong. 

Jo swung a leg by his hip, bringing his attention back to her. “So you were what?” he asked, fishing. “Helping a bloke out?” 

Jo giggled in a way that for the first time in Chuck’s life, informed him that his daughter would grow up and want to be with someone and it’d be coming at him like a freight train out of the blue one day. He began to wonder if it hadn’t already started. “Daddy…” she said, drawing out the vowel. “It’s Rory!”

“...wait...Your best mate, Rory?!”

She nodded enthusiastically, hair bobbing and Chuck felt the years coming at him at light speed. “Your best mate’s a boy?”

“‘Course Rory’s a boy, Daddy! He’s always been a boy!” 

Chuck could feel the dawning horror. Jo had never actually _said_ either way. He’d just assumed. Mighty stupid of him actually, now that he thought about it. How’d he never noticed she only ever said Rory, and never anything more readily identifiable? 

Of course, Jo was seven years old, so...she couldn’t exactly be expected to care about things like that - especially not in the Hansen household. It was just...it was damn weird is what it was. And Chuck felt kind of - okay a whole lot - like an idiot. 

The sound of heavy boots coming to an abrupt halt behind him spared him the indignity of having to try and respond to his daughter, for which he was infinitely grateful. 

“Rory!” gasped a man’s voice, causing the kid’s head to snap up. 

Chuck could tell he wasn’t just pretty, he was sensitive too. Or maybe it was just the goose egg shaped bump on his head. Because the moment he did, those bright blue eyes filled to spilling with crystalline tears, and he hopped off the chair and quickly folded himself into the larger body that dropped into a crouch just beside Chuck. 

“Damn it, Rory,” the man said. 

Chuck’s hackles rose and he turned swiftly to tell the man what he could do with his insensitive ass, when he caught the child being crushed close, a kiss being pressed reverently against his temple. “What did I say about stuff like this? You have to _tell_ me, sweetheart, or I can’t help you!” 

The rage died down, leaving Chuck oddly cold. The man stood, tucking the kid to him and swaying gently. “Hmm?” he murmured, then looked around. “Jo did?” 

Chuck straightened, holding tighter to his only child. Jo straightened as well. “That’s Rory’s Daddy,” she whispered loudly. 

It brought the man’s gaze to them and Chuck instantly felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. Not his mother then. Rory’d gotten everything from his dad, whom by all accounts had won a genetic lottery and managed to carefully invest his winnings. He was about as tall as Chuck, broad shouldered, tapered waist...blond as the glint of metal in sunlight and with eyes so blue, when they met Chuck’s he had the distinct feeling of falling and adjusted Jo against him with a steadying bounce as he spread his legs, widening his stance. 

“Hey Jo,” he said. 

“Hi, Rory’s Daddy!” 

“Thanks for taking care of him.”

She smiled brightly and nodded, still pert pigtail nearly whacking Chuck in the face. 

Those blue eyes turned to him, chin lifting slightly as his son burrowed his face against his neck. “You must be Jo’s dad.” He held out his hand. “Raleigh Becket.”

“Chuck Hansen,” he replied, taking it and shaking, voice rough for some inexplicable reason. Probably the same reason that had sent zings up his arm the moment their fingers closed about one another. The same reason his pants felt tight. He shifted Jo to his side and lifted her a bit higher so her foot brushed just above his belly button. 

“Sorry about all this.”

Chuck shrugged. “Kids’ll be kids.” He jerked his chin in Rory’s direction. “He gonna be okay?”

Raleigh tucked his chin as he looked down, then sighed. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.” He turned to smile at Jo. “He’s got the greatest best friend in the whole world.” 

Jo straightened even more, with a bit of a wiggle of pride. 

Rory sniffed, head turning so he could look at her. He reached back, arm extending and palm out. Jo dropped forward and took his hand. 

They stood there for God only knew how long before Rory said, “We match.”

“Yeah,” Jo added, cheerily. “We match all over.”

Chuck saw his own furrowed brow mirrored in Raleigh, and it wasn’t until he shifted that he realized they were still holding hands. Raleigh flushed just enough when his eyebrows rose in surprise, that Chuck could see it stain all the way down his front. What he wouldn’t give to see it all the way--

“Mr. Hansen. Mr. Becket. We’re ready for you now.” 

“Well,” Raleigh said, taking his hand back so he could steady Rory on his feet. Chuck put Jo down and she immediately swung both arms around Rory’s neck. Jo was taller and shapelier, but if Rory was anything like his father, that wouldn’t last. “We’d better get this over with. You two going to be okay out here?”

Rory nodded as Jo said, “Yup!” with an energetic nod. 

Raleigh winked at her. “Keep an eye on him?”

“‘Course!”

“Thanks, Jo.” He smiled at his son and carefully ruffled his hair. “You keep Jo company while we go sort this out. Don’t go too far.”

“Okay,” Rory said softly. 

Raleigh smiled once more and Chuck noted it was indeed a most expensive smile, before turning to him and gesturing with his arm. Chuck nodded, and fell into step beside him as they headed down the short hall toward the Headmaster’s office. 

“So...after this...do you want to get some coffee?”

Chuck nearly crashed into the doorframe. “You and me?”

Raleigh paused. “I think they sell coffee at McDonald’s all day. The kids can eat dinner and play and we can get to know each other better.”

The world had decided that it wasn’t spinning quite as much as it’d like and Chuck blinked past the increased rotation. 

“I mean, our kids are best friends and we’ve never even met until-”

“You married, mate?” 

It was Raleigh’s turn to blink. “No.”

“Neither am I. Single?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Me too.”

The corner of Raleigh’s mouth curved slightly. “Get to know each other, huh?”

“Mate, I plan to give you a thorough inspection.” He grinned rather like a shark before attempting innocence with a shrug. “My daughter’s everything to me. Can never be too sure.”

Raleigh laughed. “No, I don’t suppose you can.” They took their seats, every inch of them responsible adult, even with the thrill that had taken up residence low in their guts. “Your place or mine?”

“You a screamer, Ray?”

Raleigh laughed. “Oh kid...you’re not ready for that responsibility.”

Chuck felt his cock jump and shifted in his seat. 

The Headmaster for the younger years entered from the far door and crossed over to them. 

“Definitely mine,” Chuck said low and throaty. 

Raleigh just smirked. 

The Headmaster greeted them, shaking their hands and bidding them to retake their seats. As he began to speak it was a struggle for Chuck to keep his head in the conversation. Raleigh - damn him - was subtly shifting his legs, thighs brushing and knees flexing. Chuck swallowed and made a mental note to make him pay for it later - no matter the reason.


	2. Raleigh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody wanted more, so...here's more. 
> 
> From Raleigh's Point of View, and with a little more backstory, because I knew all of this but Chuck didn't.
> 
> This will probably be three chapters total, because these two want in each other's pants bad and it would just be wrong to ignore that. But I'm not making a decision as yet until the third is written, to see if it feels finalized or not.

Raleigh Becket was not the type to do anything by half measures. Never had been, never would be. It was all or nothing for Raleigh. Which was how he’d found himself a father. When the woman who’d been secretly dicking both he and his brother around had found herself pregnant, not sure which one was the father, she’d had to come clean. She didn’t want the baby, but she’d dithered so long trying to decide on the best course of action, that by the time she decided on an abortion it was too late. So Raleigh had found himself sitting beside Yancy on the couch, while she confessed everything. How long she’d been in a relationship with each, and how she’d taken enjoyment in being the center of their respective worlds so much - because they were both _so_ loving, passionate, considerate, caring, kind...he honestly stopped listening after a while - she had known it was wrong, but faced with the option of choosing, had simply chosen not to. She’d suspected a pregnancy and taken a test, finding it positive. She knew how much family meant to them. How much they would have both made excellent fathers, and taken responsibility and even married her, happily. But she’d wanted them both and it had bitten her on the ass. 

They’d been told how she’d planned to have an abortion and just not tell them, or tell them she’d been pregnant and miscarried, and see how they reacted. Had planned to promise them more children one day when the time was right. They hadn’t looked at each other, their eyes focused on her, so when she admitted she wanted to put the baby up for adoption, all Raleigh was aware of was Yancy standing at the same time he did. There’d been yelling, so much yelling, and hot rage churning in his gut. He and Yancy hadn’t been able to look at one another for weeks afterward, avoiding one another, even as they took care of her - as she’d known they would. She lived in the house, a floating existence between them, all of them unhappy, but he and Yance trying to make her comfortable at least. She’d promised them the baby - which she still didn’t want after everything - had promised to sign over all of her rights and never darken their door again. 

Yancy had been the one to suggest the paternity test as soon as one was able to provide accurate readings. Raleigh understood why, but he’d have rather they endured the wait together, sharing that moment of joy at the birth before reality came crashing down. Yancy - being Yancy - had talked them around to the idea. And sooner than Raleigh had liked, he’d been named a father. 

The weight of it seemed to settle even as Yancy seemed to heal. Raleigh found himself just as much the recipient of his brother’s attention as she who would never be named again. Yancy falling effortlessly into big brother mode, into crisis control, into himself. It was easier then. Easier to endure the wait. Easier to become excited and to let that excitement fill him. Easier to love and trust again. Because, she may have been selfish, and she may have shaken them for a while. But they were more than brothers, more than best friends, and though she’d rocked their foundations, their bedrock remained sturdy, buried deep as it was in years upon years of life spent together. 

From the moment Raleigh held the bald, squalling baby in his arms - his _son_ \- he knew he was lost to the precious, little life until his dying breath. He’d wanted to name the baby Riley - regardless of sex - but Yancy had pointed out that Riley was a little too close to Raleigh and would probably sound a little egotistical. Not to mention, likely to confuse everyone they met for the rest of their lives. But he agreed the baby looked like an ‘R’ name and had promptly suggested Rory. Raleigh liked the name, liked more that they’d grown beyond the incident so well that they were back to normal, if not stronger. Liked most the poetry of Yancy naming a baby that for the longest time had also been his. So Rory it was. 

The first four years of Rory’s life were one endless learning curve. For some reason unbeknownst to them, he was allergic to nearly _everything_. Rory’s sensitive system had lead them to become old pros at hospital tours and office visits. Yancy had been named Rory’s Godfather and Guardian, and was for all intents and purposes his second father. He loved Rory like his own, and they often confused people when they went out, because Rory called him Daddy and Yancy Papa and looked overwhelmingly like them both. 

When Rory’s doctors suggested an exercise regime to compliment his specialized diet, Raleigh and Yancy pooled their resources and enrolled Rory in nearly everything they could find. Rory had been three, but the increased activity had caused him to blossom. His health began to improve even as they began to whittle down activities to those he enjoyed and excelled at. It had been their mother’s idea to introduce Rory to ballet and gymnastics. Their father had been less sold on the idea, but as was usual in their family, Dominique Becket gracefully guided her family into proper decision making. Neither Yancy nor Raleigh had been opposed to the idea - they’d had to endure three years of ballet as kids themselves before finding hockey and lacrosse respectfully and could still manage a range of flexibility nearly unheard of in non athletes amongst their peers. With her help, they’d found a good studio and gym and set Rory on path. Rory flourished. He promptly dropped every other activity save skating, which they quietly adjusted to figure skating to fully compliment his newfound passion. Jaz - a yoga instructor - delighted in teaching Rory her own unique skills, the pair bonding over complex body poses and a love for being awake at ungodly hours. 

All in all, Raleigh had had the full support of his family and Rory had never had a single moment to doubt he was loved. There were nights Raleigh would lay awake and wonder what his life would have been like if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. If she’d had the abortion. If they’d married. Every time, the twisting in his gut would make him sick. Yancy never said anything when he wandered into his room and dropped into his bed. Just threw back the covers and held his arm out like he’d done when they were kids if he were awake. Roll over and envelope him if he wasn’t. Raleigh would feel himself relax instantly, the world washing away in the presence of the only person who knew everything about him and loved him despite it all. He’d be asleep in moments, and every so often, when he’d wake, Rory would have wandered in and could be found wedged somewhere. Yancy, despite his hatred of waking early, would still have the alarm on, and they’d wake as a family - to differing levels of greeting the day - and get started on Rory’s day. 

Because Rory was so athletically attuned, he couldn’t be enrolled in a regular school. His scheduling just didn’t have the hours to offer a rigid educational regime. Luckily for them, their mother was a teacher and, though retired, took on the responsibility of home schooling Rory. As she’d only ever spoken to him in French, Rory’s early schooling was predominantly french oriented. Until their father had pointed out skewing Rory’s education wouldn’t help him pass standardized tests any easier, and she’d grudgingly begun to speak English to him - if only during school hours. 

By the time Rory was five, he was competing and being awarded. The competitions began to eat up the family’s time, consuming everyone’s days off in taking turns ferrying Rory about. Whenever Raleigh found himself feeling like he was taking advantage and trying to apologize, he received the same look from every member of his family. Rory was a Becket, and as such, entitled to their every moment in support. And as they were so fond of reminding him, the weight of any future Olympian’s early years had to be shared so that their future could be properly secured. 

It was at a meet in San Fransisco that they met Tendo Choi. Tendo had been there in support of his niece, whose fearlessness regarding tumbling was getting a lot of attention. Rory had also been a favorite, and they’d taken to chatting as events progressed. A widower, Tendo’s family had been trying to find ways to coax him into social situations again, for the sake of his young son as much as his own. Yarden Yul Choi, affectionately called ‘yeye’ was a bright, happy baby, who never the less had lingering, yet understandable, separation issues. Yeye for reasons of his own, latched on to Yancy at first sight and absolutely refused to be budged. Tendo had apologized profusely, but Yancy hadn’t found the attention anything more than adorable, and certainly not hindering or obtrusive. It wasn’t until after Raleigh explained to Tendo’s sister that he and Yancy were brothers and Rory was thus Yancy’s nephew that things took a dramatic turn from camaraderie right into take you home with me. Tendo had been guarded for so long, when he’d fallen again, he’d fallen completely. At their wedding, nine months later, Raleigh made a point to use every possible joke to refer to their situation in his best man’s speech. It had been a hit all around. 

Tendo had connections from years working a civilian dispatch position at an air force base, and thus, knew someone who knew someone who knew someone who could help the Beckets touch base with a highly sought after coach who lived in Australia. They made their portfolio, filled out their application and shipped it off before allowing themselves to be completely caught up in Rory’s schedule as a means of distraction. A distraction that proved only marginally successful as a few days later they received the phone call. Rory had been accepted, but there was a condition that was hardly minor. They’d need to move. 

Raleigh had been hesitant of taking Rory so far from home and everything he knew, but Yancy and Tendo had started packing immediately. They’d moved as a family. Yancy, Tendo and Yeye. Jaz. And even his parents. Home travelled with them, and Raleigh cried his blessings into his pillow the night before they left. 

Australia proved challenging, but then, it was _Australia_. Anyone who thought moving to Australia would be easy would never be prepared for life in Australia and would probably find themselves buckling under the pressure of running back home where things made sense and didn’t try to scare the hell out of you every other moment. Tendo had joked that an old friend of his had once said Australia was to be survived, endured, and enjoyed in equal measures. Raleigh found, there was no better way to describe it. 

They’d moved to Sydney, so he knew they weren’t exactly roughing it. But there were still moments that cropped up when they least expected it that handily reminded them they’d taken their lives into their own hands in making their decision. 

The worst conflict was the fact that in Australia, their mother’s home schooling wasn’t a possibility. Their training team helped them catch Rory up, and Raleigh find a school that was affiliated with them and would allow for accommodations to be made for young athletes provided they kept their grades up. It was a blessing and a curse all in one. Rory was generally shy as a rule, only open and carefree amidst those close to him. He had trouble making friends, even when they shared common interests with him, not because he wasn’t friendly, but because in him the classic Becket charm had been crippled under social anxiety. His small, lithe frame which could be guided so easily through complex gravity defying motions, also made him a target. His shyness doubled the kill value. And his inability to properly communicate with those he didn’t know made him as readily identifiable as any wounded member of a herd. The bullying was immediate and all but fatal, forcing Rory further and further into himself which made him less and less approachable, which only furthered his ability to attract unwanted attention, thus perpetuating the cycle. His schedule didn’t permit any room to give for self defence lessons, and the more he was bullied, the deeper Rory threw himself into training. Raleigh had been at his wit’s end, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Rory started talking about Jo. 

Jo was a friend he’d made - his first ever. And Jo was all things Rory couldn’t be and wished he was. So it was a bit of a surprise to find out, upon meeting Jo, that Jo was short for Joanna and Rory’s savior was a tall redhead with a spray of freckles over her nose and cheeks like an identifiable constellation. Jo was outgoing, strong, opinionated and fearless and she took no one’s shit. Raleigh found himself witness to her on more than one occasion shouting up into the faces of kids twice her size with a ferocity that had them backing down in the same manner as any creature might try to escape a predator without triggering its chase instincts. Jo - for reasons of her own - had found in Rory a gentle soul she wished to nurture and protect. And it was everything he could do not to smile too wide or laugh too loudly when Rory would recount his day and Jo’s increasing antics to his family over dinner. It wasn’t until Jaz expressed a fierce love for Jo that Raleigh realized the reverse attraction. Jo was Jaz in miniature. Her personality and vulnerabilities were something Rory could recognize and interpret from experience. Which explained as much about Rory’s ability to open up to her at first meeting, as her taking him by the hand and pinning him to her heart had been. 

Jo was like the dawning sun. Her presence in Rory’s life could be felt at every moment. In her tender care, Rory began to open up. He became more daring, more approachable, and less wary of the world on a whole. His growing confidence helped his routines. His smiles genuine, his movements sure and swelled to bursting with pride in his own ability to navigate a world which had thus far completely intimidated him. Raleigh had hoped to meet her parents, so he could express the full nature of his gratitude to them personally. As it turned out, Jo lived with her Dad - a brilliant engineer for a billion dollar corporation - whose schedule never seemed to coincide with Raleigh’s strict adherence to Rory’s and had no knowledge of her mother, whom according to her grandparents - who Raleigh _had_ met and got along with famously - had given birth to Jo young and never looked back. Their mothers choices to abort and give them up for adoption was something Jo and Rory had in common, even if they didn’t know it. Though Jo’s mother had been a pregnant teenager whose religious parents had made her carry Jo to term. Jo’s paternal grandparents had offered to adopt her as their own, but their son had been determined to take responsibility for his child, no matter what it did to his future. Raleigh found himself respecting the man and his dedication to his daughter, whom Jo talked about endlessly with obvious love and delight. She loved her father, and her father’s love for her in return was a foundation sturdier than any Raleigh had ever seen in a child. He found himself wanting to meet Charles Hansen more and more as time went by until Yancy and Tendo took it upon themselves to tease him over his dad crush. 

Meeting Charles “Chuck” Hansen, as it turned out, happened to confirm their every taunt. 

Chuck Hansen was tall and strong, built like a fighter, but with a gentleness about him that could not be denied. It was in the way he held his daughter to him, cradled and protective, as if she were the most precious thing in his reality. But with the confidence in her ability to navigate that reality and determine things for herself, in the way he didn’t try to restrain or reroute her. Allowed her to speak to a man he didn’t know and trusted her knowledge of the situation which he lacked. It was in the flash of anger Raleigh caught in his eyes when he scolded Rory. As if the man would be willing to step between them and beat the hell out of him until he learned how to respect another living thing. It was in the relief in his eyes when Raleigh turned out to be different from his initial appraisal. 

The touch of his hand as they shook made Raleigh’s insides leap in a way he hadn’t felt in...well, ever if he were being honest. The slide of skin and the grip that squeezed his just so, had his blood traveling south so quickly it left him dizzy. He had to remind himself that Chuck Hansen had his own life, free of the tangles a rigid athletic schedule caused his own, and that asking his son’s best friend’s dad out on a date would be tacky. Not to mention stupid, irresponsible and wholly selfish. Jo was everything good and sweet and bright in Rory’s life and Raleigh had no intention of fucking that up. 

His resolve had held only as long as it took the other man to misinterpret his suggestion - or properly interpret a suggestion he’d carefully worded to disguise - and look him over with obvious interest. Raleigh fell into the flirtatious banter easily and with complete abandon. His initial respect for Chuck Hansen swelling into outright desire. Chuck Hansen was a man who knew what he wanted and was not shy about taking the necessary measures to obtain it. What he seemed to want at the moment was Raleigh, and Raleigh would be damned if he tried to fight what was already rapidly taking over his consciousness. 

Sitting beside him during the meeting was sheer torture. He was close enough Raleigh could smell him, a combination of scents that seemed natural and uninfluenced, but were on their own a heady, intoxicating mixture of sheer allure. He could see the strong muscles moving beneath his skin, shifting below his clothes. Raleigh found himself swallowing a lot to try and keep down the watering of his mouth, which ached to know what Chuck Hansen tasted like. He wanted to latch onto him like a feederfish and leave marks all over his skin. Wanted to take his cock in his mouth and feel the burn of his fingers in his hair and swallow him down bare until he couldn’t remember his own name and exploded all over his tongue in a symphony of flavors. 

He shifted as much as he dared as his own cock throbbed in desire. He imagined a man like Chuck Hansen would be as formidable in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life, and the longer the meeting dragged on, the more he saw of Chuck’s personality, the more he wanted to find himself beneath him. Surrendering to Chuck’s every desire and letting him direct him, take whatever he wanted. Raleigh was sure he wouldn’t be disappointed. Chuck didn’t seem like the type of person who knew _how_ to disappoint. 

By the time the meeting was over, Chuck - with all the strength and fortitude of a force of nature - had managed to get the Headmaster to agree to curbing the bullying with severe sentences. Something which Raleigh had been working at to very low levels of achievement. Apparently, only Australians intimidated other Australians. Or knew the ways in which to. Neither Rory nor Jo would be punished, and Chuck had even gotten them three days off without consequence to recuperate. 

“Thanks,” Raleigh found himself saying as they exited. He raked a hand through his hair with a sigh of relief. “I really appreciate what you did in there. I haven’t been getting anywhere with this.”

“Been bullied a long time?” Chuck asked, voice husky in ways that made Raleigh want to shove him against a wall and do something incredibly stupid and reckless - and likely illegal.

“Yeah,” he sighed, shoulders sagging slightly. “Ever since we moved.”

“What made y’ pick up from America and tromp out to settle here?”

“Rory got accepted to the most prestigious training facility in the world. It was a no brainer.”

“He’s an athlete?” He sounded incredulous. 

Raleigh laughed. “Yeah, I know he doesn’t look it.”

“Nah mate, he really doesn’t. Something...uh…”

Raleigh felt the smirk curving his mouth in full amusement as Chuck tried not to step in it. 

“What’s his specialty?”

 _Smooth_ , Raleigh thought. “Pommel horse,” he replied. “Rings. Uneven bars.”

“Isn’t that a girl’s--” He cleared his throat. 

“Yeah. He doesn’t compete in it. He just likes it. His training team lets him blow off steam that way. It helps his floor routine. Rory can really stick it when he’s given himself a little nudge. You should see him on trampoline.” 

“Jo likes those.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Did Rory teach Jo to flip?”

“Rory’s coach taught Jo to flip when she visited the gym and expressed an interest.” It wasn’t something normally allowed, but her grandparents had been present to give permission, and Rory’s team had offered because Jo was proving such a strong, influential presence they’d wanted to give some back. 

Chuck nodded. “Jo’d told me her best mate was a gymnast I just never…” He swallowed, a motion that caused his adam’s apple to bob enticingly. “Hell,” he swore. “I thought Rory was a girl.” He looked equal measures embarrassed and concerned - as if Raleigh’d be offended. 

“I thought Jo was a boy at first,” he admitted. “Rory always used her name. Jo this, Jo that…” He shrugged. “‘S what we get for unisex names.” 

“To be fair, Jo’s full name is-”

“Joanna, I know.”

Chuck nodded. “Too flowery and girly for me, but mum thought pretty girls should have pretty names, so Jo. Joanna. No one calls her Joanna though, so, worked out.” 

Raleigh smiled. “Jo fits.”

“Yeah, ‘s what I think too.”

Their kids were sitting on the chairs where they’d left them, tangled together like puppies. Jo was chatting away, poking Rory every now and again in random places so he wouldn’t fall asleep. She avoided his injured sites though, which Raleigh appreciated, and he was sure Rory did as well. 

“We in trouble?” she asked them as they approached. 

“Nah,” Chuck told her, reaching down to ruffle her hair and sending her pigtails flying. “You did good, love. Always stick with your gut. Don’t ever let anyone try and trample you. Make them eat it.” 

It probably wasn’t the best place to be saying something like that given the reasons they were there, but Raleigh found, he only felt more attracted to Chuck because of it. He was raising a strong, independent child who defended others with the same fierceness as she defended herself, if not more so. Raleigh flexed his hands into fists so he wouldn’t be tempted to grab Chuck by the shirt and drag him into a kiss. 

“And you,” he said, dropping into a crouch to be level with Rory. “You’re going to start spending more time at our house. If Jo can teach them where to shove it, so can you.” He held out his hand. “Deal?” 

Rory smiled. It was small, but it was promising. He reached out and took Chuck’s hand. 

“If your dad doesn’t mind,” Chuck added as an afterthought, shoulders tensing a little as if it had just occurred to him he probably ought to have asked before promising a kid anything, let alone to teach him how to punch people. 

“Only if I get to come too,” he replied, letting a little of the desire out to give it a double meaning. 

Chuck cleared his throat and stood. “Alright you two, come on. We’re going out t’ eat.”

Two pairs of eyes widened in surprised excitement. It occurred to Raleigh they’d never gotten to really share their nuclear families with one another before, which made it a big treat. Usually Chuck was too busy and Jo’s grandparents sufficed. 

“Really?” she asked. “You don’t hafta go back to work?”

“Nah. They can see me on Monday like everyone else.”

Jo squealed and threw herself at him. Chuck caught her with the practiced ease of one accustomed to such behavior. 

“Really Dad?” Rory asked, blinking up at him. 

Raleigh smiled and dropped down beside Chuck, who was busy wrangling a giddy, squirming Jo. “Yeah, really. We deserve some fun. Don’t you think?”

“Can I get a milkshake?”

“You can have whatever you want. We’ll tell coach we were celebrating.”

“What are we celebrating?” Jo asked, leaning over and subsequently dangling from her father’s embrace. 

“New beginnings,” her father answered. 

Their eyes met and Raleigh could feel a responding heat in Chuck’s. “Happily Ever Afters,” he added. 

Chuck snorted softly, mouth upturned in an expression that clearly said, ‘Sap.’

Raleigh shrugged one shoulder. There was no guarantee of course, but he had a good feeling about it. And as Chuck had advised, he was going with his gut.


End file.
